


The North Remembers

by GlowingMechanicalHeart



Series: The Sansa Stark Chronicles [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Anger, Gen, Not A Fix-It, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Resentment, The North Remembers (ASoIaF), ValarMoreKinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingMechanicalHeart/pseuds/GlowingMechanicalHeart
Summary: A part of her wanted to write back, to move on and forgive. To be the lady her mother and septa Mordane raised to be, but something inside her – she was pretty sure it was the direwolf of her sigil – raged against the letter.It was a letter from Lady Olenna, trying to appeal to her for mercy for Margaery. More accurately, asking her to intercede with Daenerys for Margaery.
Relationships: Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark & Olenna Tyrell
Series: The Sansa Stark Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1315712
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	The North Remembers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for ValarMoreKinks on Lj, the OP is: "Sansa, the Tyrells: I just want to read a fic where Sansa does not forgive the Tyrells for using her as a fall-girl and a drug mule in King's Landing." It can be found on Round #12, page 63.

Sansa stares at the letter that lays upon her desk.

It’s just an innocent piece of parchment, it’s the words that trouble her. She does her best to stare at it with a cold detachment, but the truth was that she felt so many emotions. 

A part of her wanted to write back, to move on and forgive. To be the lady her mother and septa Mordane raised to be, but something inside her – she was pretty sure it was the direwolf of her sigil – raged against the letter.

It was a letter from Lady Olenna, trying to appeal to her for mercy for Margaery. More accurately, asking her to intercede with Daenerys for Margaery.

It didn’t escape her, that there wasn’t any sort of apology on that letter. There was no sort of words that would hint at remorse. Nothing that said they were sorry for using her, for condemning her to die because she was no longer useful.

Oh no, it was just a blatant request for her to use her friendship with Daenerys to help one of their own. And something twisted in her heart, mind and stomach against it. She was sure, that for all her armor of courtesy, for all the lessons she learned, for all the praised her lady mother and her septa rained on her, she would forget it all and slap Olenna if she were in front of her.

Because for all her nature, there was something that screamed in anger against the Tyrells. She was a child, an orphaned one that was away from any sort of protection. She was friendless and at the mercy of Joffrey and Cersei, when they decided that she would only be useful as the wife of their precious Willas.

Well, it seemed the jape was upon them. Now, here she was, Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North, niece to another and cousin – mother almost – to another. With plenty of marriage prospects, with an easy and honest friendship with Daenerys. With the love and loyalty of her people. And now, the Tyrells might have kept their titles, but it was clear that they had lost their standing. Margaery had been kept as a ward in Daenerys court, Olenna barred entry to King’s Landing, Loras and Mance dead, Garland displaced from the Keep he had been given.

She took a deep breath, she could speak to Daenerys, but, just the thought of it made her stomach revolt. The Tyrells had been fair weather friends, one that had no trouble using a twelve year old child into an accomplice in regicide – even if she herself wanted Joff dead – and worst, she was the one with the poison in her head. Cersei had not been shy about wanting her head for this.

And yet, here they were, asking a favor as if they had any right to do so. She entertained the thought of showing the letter to Arya and Bran, but she was sure that Arya would take a horse to the Reach and stab Olenna, be as it may, she didn’t want the woman dead. Bran would simply remind her that it was her decision.

In the end, she hardened her heart. They had had no mercy for her, neither would she. She did feel sorry for Margaery, the stipulations Daenerys had placed on her were harsh, no doubt making clear that she might hold the title of ward, but she was nothing more than a hostage, an assurance for her family’s good behavior. No marriages would come now, three dead kings and Daenerys’ proclamation of her station as warden, made her an unweddable woman.

She wondered if Margaery ever thought that the roles were now reversed. 

But she didn’t wondered for too long, instead, she took a clean piece of parchment, she dipped her quill in ink and wrote: _The North Remembers, as do I._

She sanded the parchment and once it was dried, she rolled it, closed and sealed it. Gave it to Sam to send it to Olenna, she was Sansa Stark, and she was a She-Wolf of Winterfell. The Tyrells threw her to the wolves and forgot she was one.

She stood, she had work to do elsewhere. And she was not sad to say, that she would not loose any sort of sleep over Margaery’s fate. After all, the North Remembers.


End file.
